


Dress the Part

by 8sword



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alfred!Bobby, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Batman!Castiel, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3853003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8sword/pseuds/8sword
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Technically, she's not supposed to have access to the Cave, since Cas changed all the access codes once he and Dean got back from their abduction in space.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dress the Part

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vilupe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vilupe/gifts).
  * Inspired by [World's Finest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077006) by [8sword](https://archiveofourown.org/users/8sword/pseuds/8sword). 



 

> This is a happy birthday gift to my very dearest loversforlycanthropes! It's based on her absolutely gorgeous [Claire/Emma masterpiece](http://syntheticgrammar.tumblr.com/post/117370132682/something-different) and in no way does it justice. My friend, I am so very grateful you exist and that after all these years we are still such close friends. You are wonderful!
> 
> (This fic takes place in the "World's Finest" 'verse where Claire is Batgirl and Emma is Supergirl. AHOY, THERE BE UNBETA'D SMUT AHEAD--YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)
> 
>                                                                                                                                          

 

Batman doesn't look up from his huge Bat-computer monitor when Emma comes up behind him in the cave. He does, however, stiffen.

"Sorry," Emma blurts out before she can catch herself. Then immediately turns pink. "I thought Claire would be--"

She catches herself before she can dig her hole any deeper. Technically, she's not still supposed to have access to the Cave, since Cas changed all the access codes once he and Dean got back from their abduction in space. Since, _technically,_ Claire isn't supposed to share them with anyone.

Still, it's not like Dean doesn't probably know the access codes. She's sure Cas told them to him, so it's not like it's that big a deal that Claire would've shared them with Emma.

Except. The whole. Them not banging each other like Dean and Cas are thing.

Emma makes a pained sound, hiding her face in her hands. She tries so hard _not_ to think about the fact that her dad is having regular sex with Batman.

When she remembers that she's actually still in the cave with said dad-banger, she winces and pulls her hands from her face. Batman has turned around in his chair. He's somehow managing to look amused at her expense despite his mouth being in a straight line under the cowl.

He studies her for a long minute, head cocked slightly to the side. Then, "Chinatown," he says, and turns back to the computer.

"What's she in Chinatown for?" Emma asks, but Batman doesn't say anything else, and after a minute, she flits over to the staircase, darting up to the top landing before alighting on her feet and pushing out the door.

"Well, well," Bobby says when he sees her. "If it isn't Winchester Jr. Your daddy already beat you to the last of the pie."

"Typical," Emma says. She climbs onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar, planting her elbows on the counter. "Why's Claire in Chinatown?"

"Why do you think?" Bobby says.

Emma looks at the calendar on the wall where the date of Claire's last university exam is marked with several emphatic red ink circles. "But she only got home yesterday!"

"Like uncle like niece, I guess." Bobby grunts and opens the oven door with an oven-mitted hand. "You stayin' for dinner?"

Emma shakes her head and pushes out the kitchen door to the backyard. It's almost full dark; she'd headed straight for Gotham as soon as she finished her shift at the Talon, thinking to catch Claire just when she was waking up from the full-day siesta Emma expected she'd probably insist on taking after the week straight of exams she'd just had. She's trying not to feel stung that apparently Claire didn't even see fit to text Emma that she was done for the semester. It's not like this hasn't been coming for a while--Dean had warned her it would happen, when Emma decided to take a year off before going to college, but she hadn't thought, then, that it would really be any different--she and Claire were miles apart during high school, too, but that hadn't kept them from texting each other nonstop. Somehow, college has made things different, and for a long minute, Emma thinks of flying back to Lawrence.

Then she hears a familiar low beep several dozen decibels below human hearing.

She blurs into super-speed. The beep is coming from Chinatown, sure enough, and Emma finds it just in time to see several women in cheongsams filing out of the side entrance of a club with a flashing neon sign in characters she can't read. The beep is coming from inside the small silk purse of one in a red cheongsam, and as Emma blurs to a stop in a side alley several hundred feet away, its owner looks up.

Emma catches her breath. Claire's eyes scan the street for another few seconds before landing on Emma. Her expression doesn't change, but her eyes flick upward, for a second, and Emma follows them to a hotel across the street. A man in a suit leads the line of women through its front entrance, caboosed by another man in a suit, and the beeping stops as the door closes behind them.

Emma waits another ten minutes or so. Then the beeping starts again, and she streaks inside silently, letting herself through the unlocked hotel room door.

Claire looks up from where she's standing in front of the bathroom mirror, pulling off a long brown wig. "You called?"

"What?" Emma says stupidly.

Claire bends over to shake her blonde hair out, sifting her fingers through it. "Cas texted me. Said you were looking for me."

"Oh," Emma says. "Yeah. I was just…"

She trails off as she watches Claire gather all her hair into a bun and then lets it fall free again in big yellow waves. She follows the strands to Claire's reflection in the mirror and jumps when she finds Claire's reflection's eyes looking back at her. "H--how did your exams go?"

Claire shrugs. "I passed."

"That's good," Emma says lamely. Claire doesn't offer anything more, and Emma gives a laugh that sounds more awkward than anything. "So. You sure didn't waste any time taking a break, huh?"

"Crime never takes a break," Claire intones in a voice that sounds mocking and serious all at once.

Silence falls between them. It's awkward and horrible.

Emma finally moves, motioning vaguely at the wig. "What's the deal with…?"

"Planting bugs on some of Fish Mooney's clientele," Claire says. She sounds bored. "I'm waiting for one in particular, but apparently he's been too busy for distractions the past few nights."

Emma raises an eyebrow. "And it happened to go completely unnoticed that you're the Novak who ends up on E!TV segments every other Thursday?"

Claire taps her scalp, just behind her ear. "New glamour spell from Tracy."

Emma's expression darkens at the mention of the League's resident magician. Claire must notice, because she laughs as she flops down on the single bed in the middle of the tiny hotel room. "Jealous?"

"No," Emma says. Too hastily, and she quickly looks away, at her own reflection in the mirror, moving as if to inspect something in her reflection.

"Hmm." Claire stretches out on the bed. "So, what did you come all the way out here for?"

"I need your help on a case."

"Oh?"

" _Yes_ ," Emma says, hoping the light in the room is dim enough to hide the fact that her ears have turned red. Why, why, _why_ did she say that?

Claire rolls onto her side to prop her cheek on her hand. "What sort of case?"

"A…crop circle."

Claire stares at her for a minute. Then she drops onto her back, laughing. "Oh no! Don't tell me there are _aliens_ in Lawrence!"

Emma flushes.

Claire finally runs out of breath laughing. "Oh my God," she says, wiping at her eyes. "Seriously, Emma, if you wanted to come see me you should've just said so. We've talked about how much you suck at lying."

"Some people would consider that a good trait," Emma says stiffly.

"Some people," Claire says. "Moralistic extraterrestrials, maybe. Amazonian deities, probably. Horny college girls, not so much."

She shifts on the bed. Her short cheongsam is riding up, revealing pale skin where her thigh-highs end. Emma, her face feeling very hot, is staring, and as if she senses the regard, Claire reaches down to slide her index fingers under the elastic and hook them down. She lifts her legs vertically into the air to slide them off; her cheongsam slides the rest of the way down, pooling on her stomach and the bed and revealing gold satin lingerie that matches the embroidery on the cheongsam.

Emma tears her eyes away.

"Why?" Claire murmurs. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"I--" Emma begins.

Claire watches her. Her eyes are very dark beneath even darker lids, her face smoky with dark eyeliner and darker mascara and lipstick like mulberries crushed in snow. "'I,'" she mimics softly.

Emma licks her lips. She takes one step toward the bed.

Claire's off of it with almost superhuman speed. Too quickly almost for even Emma's eyes to follow. Suddenly she's at Emma's side, her hands on Emma's hips. Emma's got just jeans and a t-shirt on over her suit, and the heat from Claire's hands seeps through them like something wet, something warm. She shivers despite herself.

Claire leans in closer. Her mouth is almost at Emma's ear. "If you're bored in Lawrence--" Her warm breath is kisses along the hot curve of Emma's ear, "I bet I can find a job for you."

"Y-yeah?" Emma's voice comes out breathless.

"Yeah." Claire's smile can be felt against her ear. "But you have to dress the part."

One of her hands drifts up, under Emma's t-shirt, to the clasp of her uniform underneath. Emma catches her breath as Claire's thumb starts to massage tiny circles over the knob of her spine, where the clasp sits. It's a taunt and a request for permission both, and after a minute, Emma finds her breath. Gives a single jerk of a nod.

Claire finds the clasp and the zipper-like mechanism underneath it. She's the only one aside from Emma who knows where it is, their own private access code. She draws the zipper down so softly that goose bumps travel down Emma's back in its wake.

Claire kneels behind her to peel the sleek blue fabric down her legs. She rests her temple against the back of Emma's thigh as Emma steps out of the suit one leg at a time, first one, then the other, and Emma's face burns, her everything burns, the place between her legs feeling hot and damp and obvious. She wants Claire to move away from her and wants her never to take her head from Emma's leg.

"Bra," Claire says against the back of Emma's knee, and she shivers again. Cups her arms under her breasts for a minute, before reaching behind her for the clasp of it and shrugging it off one strap at a time, keeping her arms pressed over her chest.

She feels, more than hears, Claire stand up behind her. Her hand slides up Emma's bare side as she does, more goose bumps erupting along Emma's skin, right up to the sensitive skin of her nipples against her wrists. She shuffles around to watch Claire to go a carry-on suitcase in the corner of the room. Claire pulls out a short silky white slip with white embroidery at the hem and rocks back up to her feet, hooking off her own panties carelessly from beneath her cheongsam.

Emma literally can't breathe.

Claire comes back to crouch in front of her again. She holds the slip ready for Emma to step into, hitching her shoulders in a single pointed motion for Emma to hold onto them as she steps, and Emma does, feeling the strong firm muscles of Claire's lean arms as she trusts Claire to hold her up and pull the slip up over her black Hanes bikini underwear, onto her hips.

She stays there for another second longer, holding onto the feeling of Claire's shoulders--

Claire yanks her underwear off.

Emma yelps, nearly falling forward onto Claire. She stumbles clumsily as Claire tugs at her underwear to get her to lift her feet to pull it off; she topples forward, instead, onto the bed, and Claire lets out a triumphant sound and yanks the underwear off her foot as it dangles from her ankle.

"Oh my God," Emma hears herself say as she scrambles upright on the comforter, flipping the hem of the slip back down to cover herself. She sits back on her heels. "Did you just--did we seriously just--"

Claire's settling down opposite her on the bed, sitting back on her heels, too. "Hey," she says, cutting Emma off. Her eyes are very blue, and somewhere in the scuffle, her eye makeup has gotten smeared, and she looks a lot less intimidating now, and a lot more like the Claire Emma knows. Emma licks her lips, and then Claire's there, breathing against them for a moment, just one long heart-stopping suspension of a moment, before her tongue comes out, tentatively, and licks them, too. And then her tongue is touching Emma's tongue, and they're sliding, and breathing, and Emma's nipples are dragging against the silky fabric of Claire's cheongsam. She catches her breath, nearly chokes on it, and saliva, and Claire's tongue, and Claire pulls back, her eyes finding Emma's through the half-lidded haze that's gripped both of them.

"Okay?" she breathes.

Emma just nods, and Claire leans back in. Their mouths meeting again, closing over one another's, and then there's tentative cold fingertips at the waist of the slip. Emma jumps at them, then stiffens, feeling the muscles between her legs jump and quiver, too. The fingers just hesitate there for a minute; then, as Emma opens her mouth wider to coax Claire back inside, they plunge under the waistband.

Emma arches. Claire's thumb finds the hinge of her jaw and holds their mouths together, hot tongue sliding in across the ridge of her hard palate, as she strokes down the slope of Emma's thigh with the other. She finds the slick wet lips, and Emma makes a noise into her mouth, inhaling hard through her nose. Claire teases her finger higher, stroking, and Emma's hands come up to clamp on her hips through the cheongsam. She makes soft, breathless sounds against the side of Claire's mouth as Claire moves her fingers, pressing them deeper.

"Okay?" she asks again. Against Emma's cheek.

Emma nods feverishly. Claire nudges at her shoulder with her chin, and Emma brings her arm up in response, hooking her elbow around Claire's neck. She brings the other, carefully, to Claire's chest and hovers there for a minute before resting it against her and gently thumbing her nipple through the silk fabric.

Claire locks up and comes. Emma sucks in a harsh breath, her eyes locked on Claire's face, and Claire feels her, hot and slick and trembling. It almost feels like she can feel Emma's heartbeat, throbbing there in the thin delicate skin, and pleasure washes through her again.

When they're done. When they're done, they're both kneeling on the comforter with their foreheads pressed together. Panting into each other's mouths.

"So," Emma says eventually.

"So," Claire echoes.

"Um."

Claire pinches her side. Emma squeals and jumps away. "Um?"

"What do you want me to say?" Emma demands, flushing. " 'Thank you?' "

"You're welcome," Claire says with great dignity.

Emma squawks and tackles her to the pillows.

 

 

 

" _Balls_ ," Bobby says when the girls return to the Manor the next morning bumping each other's shoulders and shooting each other pleased, secret grins when they think no one is looking. He looks pleased and long-suffering all at once, like he can’t believe this is his lot in his life.

"Girls," he says, taking off his hat and rubbing his forehead before putting it back on. "I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told your daddies. Number one, congratulations getting your heads out of your asses. Number two, if I catch you having sex on any of the antique furniture, the Joker himself'll be scared shitless by what I do to you."

"Okay," Claire says. Laughter in her voice. "We'll make sure you don't catch us."

Bobby glares at her as they dart around him and scurry up the big wide staircase, laughing madly. "You watch yourself, Claire Novak!" he calls after them. "I know where your middle school pictures are, and I ain't afraid to use 'em."

Claire goes pale.

 

 

 

 

THE END


End file.
